


One Hundred

by delcatty



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Pokémon, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Dark, Dreams, F/F, F/M, Gen, Immortality, M/M, Prompt Fic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1589594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delcatty/pseuds/delcatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s certain that Lysandre was out there somewhere, experiencing the same monotony Xerneas’ immortality brought her. She bitterly hoped that he was having a worse time of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for allusions towards underage.

**EVIDENCE**

Green hated history class. He couldn’t remember the Battle of Geosenge if his life depended on it – and if his sister had anything to say, his life _did_ depend on it.

Green liked science – there’s something reassuring and familiar about biology and chemistry.

History though—

“Here,” someone whispered to his right. Green looked at the person – a girl with blue eyes. He’d never seen her before, but like science she was almost a comforting presence.

Green wordlessly took the piece of paper offered and scanned it, amazed.

“Test answers?”

She winked, “Destroy it afterwards, kay?”

Green rolled his eyes, smirking. 

—

**I’M HERE**

“Sorry I’m late!” Lyra bounded into math class. Silver looked at his watch – ten minutes late. “Grandpa had me feed _all_ the dogs before school!”

Noting her messy pigtails and loose overall straps, Silver suspected that her grandfather didn’t ask anything of her in the first place.

Lyra slid into her seat next to Silver and shot him a lacklustre smile. He smirked in response.

“You shouldn’t sleep in, but don’t worry. I won’t rat out your lie,” Silver drawled. “You smell like dog all the time anyway.”

Lyra’s red face was enough to make up for the bruised arm.

—

**FUNERAL**

Lance didn’t like wearing suits. They didn’t fit him the same way jeans and t-shirts did.

Agatha always said he looked like a child dressing up like his father when he wore them in the boardroom. She was right.

Her widower is standing next to her headstone, closer than Lance, and while he’d never quite gotten along with the honourable Professor, he could only feel sorry for the man.

Lanced walked forward once Oak had left, his grandchildren by his side, and read his mentor’s headstone. He barked a laugh, and walked away.

_When you're dead, you're dead. That's it._

—

**PUPPY LOVE**

She was fifteen years old, still owned every single one of her stuffed animals from childhood, and had a picture of Volkner from that one stupid boy band in her locker.

She liked peanut butter straight from the jar – smooth, not crunchy – and painting her nails a new colour every Thursday afternoon before track practice.

She was the best student in their year, was best friends with Lyra, and owned one diamond and pearl ring.

Barry hit him over the head with his backpack, “She’s a stuck up princess who’ll never look twice at you.”

Lucas sighed hopelessly, and dreamed.

—

**GLOVES**

“Normal girls like to go to the beach,” Brendan snarked from the ground, holding the safety ropes. “They don’t drag their boyfriends to go rock climbing for a date.”

May signalled. With the ropes taut she adjusted her gloves and threw a scathing look at Brendan from above.

“I never said this was a date.”

“I thought it was implied!” he exclaimed as she began to descend slowly.

“When did I ever say ‘Hey Brendan, let’s go on a date and climb some rocks’?”

He pouted, “Never.”

May landed in front of him, grinning and she pecked his cheek. “Exactly.”

—

**BLACKBOARD**

Cyrus never confessed to insanity. He stood in the courtroom with a straight face and confessed to his crimes – a long list – but never once did he plead insanity.

His lawyer had urged him to, however. She expressed how lenient the judge would be if he claimed not to be sound of mind – the gibberish on the blackboard in his classroom would be more than enough to warrant a test, even despite the photographs of the underage, female student – but Cyrus ultimately refused.

His cell is lonely and dark, but the walls don’t move and it isn’t distorted. It’s perfect.

—

**MUSE**

Burgh’s muse was a woman named Elesa. She modelled for his life drawing class, and while Burgh walked around the class directing his students where the shadows curved around her body, he noticed how she played with light and dark herself.

He approached her one day after class when her hair was light, not dark—

“Elesa,” he said as she shrugged on her big, black fur coat. “Would you like to have coffee some time?”

She smiled sharply, “I’m gay.”

He laughed, “So am I.”

His next painting featured a nude model bathed in light and dark, crowned in lightning.

—

**MAGIC**

“They say you can look like anyone,” Emma said. “Is that true?”

Looker stared at his employee and raised an eyebrow, “Who is spreading these dreadful lies?!”

She shrugged, “I dunno, people?” At his sceptical look, she sighed. “This girl at school was saying how you changed your face right in front of her – she’s been talking about it for a week.”

“Utter madness, my dear girl!” he exclaimed, and spun around on his office chair. “Madness, I say! Why, that would be like magic!”

Emma sighed, “Yeah, you’re nowhere near cool enough,” ignoring the crushed expression on his face.

—

**CLEAN**

“Just disgusting,” Cheren muttered as he scrubbed the boy’s bathroom floor.

Hilbert snorted from the empty bathtub, phone in hand. “Hilda says you’re being a freak.”

Cheren straightened, “Please tell your sister that she is unwelcome to use our bathroom again. I’ve been trying to get unidentifiable stains out of the tiles for _hours_.”

“It wasn’t her fault that Ethan couldn’t hold his liquor.”

 “She was the one who got him drunk in the first place.”

He winced, “Actually, that was me.”

Hilbert was unlucky that Cheren was on the track team. He would be cleaning the bathroom for _months_.

—

**SECRET**

Serena has graduated ninety nine times. She’s studied everything she thought might have the slightest hope of helping her situation, going as far as getting doctorates in her chosen fields with no luck.

Thousands of years ago, Serena battled a man who was determined to reshape the world to his specifications. He succeeded, in a way.

She’s certain that Lysandre was out there somewhere, experiencing the same monotony Xerneas’ immortality brought her. She bitterly hoped that he was having a worse time of it.

It’s been a thousand years since the last time... Serena prepared herself for graduation one hundred.


	2. He is awkward and does not know the ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysandre, normally a calculated man, had forgotten to count the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for vague mentions of death, specifically ambiguous murder.

**SUPERSTITION**

Phoebe giggled as her friend wiped a hand across her brow, “You’re too used to the cold.”

“Or,” Glacia retorted, “It’s unnaturally hot here.”

Phoebe shrugged as they climbed further up the mountain. “Maybe, but they like the heat.”

“Who is ‘ _they_ ’?” Glacia frowned as they entered the mountaintop graveyard. The mist curled around them thickly and the heat stifled breath. She narrowed her eyes at nothing.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow and looked around her, “Who else?”

Her friend huffed. “You may be able to fool Sidney with that silly talking to the dead trick, but you can’t fool me!”

—

**FANTASY**

Blue read a lot of trashy romance novels that her mother loaned from the library.

She didn’t like the ones with doctors and nurses, or CEOs and receptionists. Blue liked the ones with mystery and intrigue – the ones where the leading lady was a bomb expert or a master thief, the ones where she would sweep the leading man off his feet and save the day with her cunning wiles.

This was running through her head when she pilfered a key card to steal the history test answers.

The look on her leading man’s face made it all worth it.

—

**TEST**

Bryony was tired. She ran a hand through her dyed green hair and stared at the figures on her screen. She hadn’t slept in twenty hours: her shift had gone into overtime. She looked left – Celosia looked worse, but she had trouble sleeping anyway.

“I’m sick of this,” she murmured, low enough so her boss wouldn’t hear. The leers of the short, fat man unnerved her.

Celosia hummed. “Think Aliana remembered to feed the dogs?”

“If she didn’t, Mable did,” Bryony responded, glad to own a self-sufficient cat. “We’ll be home soon.”

Celosia clasped their hands together, “I miss home.”

—

**TEASE**

“Just a teeny one?” Bianca whined and snuffled her head further into Cheren’s chest. He straightened her beret as it slipped.

“No,” he replied stiffly, unsuccessfully attempting to extract himself from her clutches.

“I don’t even wanna get all heavy and stuff, I just want one – little – tiny – kiss!” she exclaimed and stood up on her tippy toes to reach his lips, puckering.

He wrenched himself away. “No, Bianca,” he said sternly, holding his hands up. “Last time we kissed, you bit me.”

Bianca wailed and chased after him. “I’ll be gentle this time! I was only following Hilbert’s advice!”

—

**STORM**

The storm matched his mood.

He had numerous qualifications, field experience, and wholehearted commitment to his chosen profession of evolutionary biology with hopes to one day teach students who were as fascinated by the subject as he was.

Professor Augustine Sycamore was going to teach _French_.

He was French, incidentally, so it made almost perfect sense for him to teach the language. Rowan’s insistence that he teach at his academy was enough to sway him, but Sycamore had turned down an opportunity to work with Flare Laboratories, for goodness sake.

The sky growled and thundered righteously. He was wasted talent.

—

**STRAWBERRIES**

 “Strawberries?” Lance asked as he walked through the front door.

On his suit was a dragon pin. There was a matching one in Clair’s collar. The same stylised dragon was engraved on their grandfather’s headstone – they owed their wealth to him, after all.

“I’m celebrating, cousin,” she replied sharply.

Lance raised an eyebrow as he shrugged off his jacket, “Well?”

“ _I_ just sealed the deal with Opelucid Incorporated today,” she sung. “They’ll be merging with Blackthorn within the week.”

Lance’s grin was blinding as he walked over and stole a strawberry out of the bowl.

“A reason to celebrate, indeed.”

—

**WEAPON**

The sword was heavy in his hands, but Ethan doubted that it was the metal weighing it down. It was dripping blood red.

Last week he drank all of Hilbert’s fruity vodka stash, and threw up in their bathroom multicoloured.

This week he had killed someone. They had eyes like the steel and hair as red as the blood. Ethan closed his eyes and thought about his best friend back in their dorm room thousands of years away, asleep in his bed.

He dropped the sword, breathed deeply and tasted green. When he opened his eyes again, Silver was there.

—

**BEACH**

Steven liked camping, hiking, and rocks most importantly.

The beach was soft and warm. He had taken off his shoes on his way to the cave on the western side of the island, and was pleasantly surprised when he stepped on someone hard and pointy.

He crouched down and picked the rock up – no, not a rock, he realised as he brushed off the sand. It was almost metallic in its appearance, but it felt just like a rock. He smoothed along the edges of it carefully, examining the image carved into the surface.

Steven was taken aback, “An eye?”

—

**LOST**

Dawn had the uncanny ability to never lose her way. She could wander the halls of the academy for hours and never feel as though she didn’t know where she was going. On top of that, she was never late and was always just where she wanted to be.

Dawn liked her school, though it took her away from her mother. Her subjects were interesting, and she had made lovely friends.

However, regardless of where, when, or how she was, Dawn was always reassured knowing that she could get away from everything.

The Distortion World was always so beautifully quiet.

—

**CRY**

Lysandre, normally a calculated man, had forgotten to count the years. He intended to, you understand. When he devised his plan to include Yveltal _and_ Xerneas in his designs to recreate the world, he intended to count every year of his immortality.

He was crushed by rocks in the aftermath, and staggered out of Geosenge revelling in his regeneration three days later. He walked past the corpses of human and pokémon alike all the way to Lumiose.

Lumiose was as destroyed as the rest of the world – Lysandre found it beautiful.

Then Sycamore was dead, and it was less so.


	3. Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calem keeps his hair short this time around, and the thought of it shocks her more than it should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for vague mentions of death, specifically ambiguous murder.

**ALOOF**

Janine could sneak up on everyone – almost.

Her father was excluded – he had more experience than her, and she swore his feet rarely touched the ground – he sort of just hovered, held up by his own ego.

The other person was the boy who sat in front of her in history class: Falkner.

She’d never understand how he could always catch her, until the day he took her to his father’s aviary.

When the hawk landed on his outstretched arm, Janine didn’t know whether to be more impressed by the bird or the suddenly much more interesting boy holding it.

—

**BLOOD**

Brendan only got the feeling when his father did something bad.

He’d be anywhere – anywhere from in class or deep asleep in his dorm room, but he could never escape it.

Sometimes, it would be a mild discomfort. But other times were worse – a sick, twisted feeling in his stomach that would nauseate him for a day.

Then he would see the news and hear a story about a woman losing half her flesh to fire, or an elderly couple found dead in their home.

Maxie always rang afterwards, and Brendan would try his hardest to forgive his father again.

—

**TOWER BLOCK**

Giovanni and Ariana were the couple – Archer assumed – who lived across the luxurious hall of his apartment building. They had one surly looking son. Archer didn’t know his name.

Giovanni ran a company that’s purpose was blurry, and Ariana was a party planner of some sort. It made sense they could afford the apartment in the best part of town – Archer’s own job at the city radio station paid just enough for rent and to put food on his table.

They were the most glamorous and atrocious couple Archer had the pleasure of knowing.

And by atrocious, he meant genius.

—

**TAXI**

He had jumped into the cab before he realised that there was already another person inside.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, “I am very sorry, I did not understand–”

His English was stilted and terribly rusty – he hated speaking it normally and frequently got embarrassed in everyday conversation. But this time he didn’t stop his stunted conversation thanks to nerves.

The man had lifted his head from his paper, and Emmet saw a face identical to his own staring back at him.

The stranger – Ingo, he _knew_ – stared wide-eyed for a moment before smiling and crying at the same time, “Emmet.”

—

**SEARCH**

“Do you believe yourself close to finding it?” her grandfather asked as she poured tea.

The question startled her. She wasn’t aware her grandfather knew she was looking at all.

“What do you mean?” Korrina asked nervously. She didn’t even like tea, but drunk it anyway to hide her wavering smile.

“Oh, don’t be daft,” Gurkinn admonished. “It was in that old book you found in the attic – what was it called again?”

“The Tower of Aura,” she murmured. “The ancient stone of mastery called the Lucarionite. It’s a myth, grandpa.”

He grumbled, “Myth or no, keep looking. It’s _important_.”

—

**LIVELY**

The strange egg was warm to the touch, he noticed. It was larger than any other egg from an animal he had seen, and red and blue in colour.

Drake had discovered it one day during a great storm that left him shipwrecked on a small island home to a lone lighthouse. He had sought refuge there while he waited for rescue.

Inside was a skeleton belonging to a creature Drake couldn’t make out. If the storm hadn’t threatened to kill him, he might have fled at the sight.

Underneath the skeleton was the egg. Drake didn’t leave it behind.

—

**REMORSEFUL**

Professor Oak’s house, steps away from the academy, was hushed.

“You did well,” Daisy said finally, holding Green’s history test. Her brother beamed.

“All that studying you made me do really helped,” he replied and shrugged, nonchalant. “I probably don’t even need to keep doing it – I’m on top of most of my classes now.”

Daisy stared at her little brother suspiciously. “That’s true,” she said slowly, “But I know that when you were supposed to be studying the night before the exam you were playing video games in Hilbert and Cheren’s dorm.”

Green winced, “Well, it’s a funny story.”

—

**DISMISS**

“But milady,” he exclaimed as another maid packed her belongings – her personal butler was too busy _yelling at her_.

“I do not wish to be called that anymore,” Caitlin said primly at her vanity, brushing her hair. Locks as thick as hers needed all the care she could give. Usually Darach brushed it. “I will be going to a school with other children my age, therefore I am no longer a lady and you are no longer in my service.”

He looked pained, and she sighed.

“I will be home during holidays, Darach,” she said gently. “I’ll be home soon.”

—

**HEAVY**

May always dreamt she was in the middle of the ocean, a massive storm raging around her. The skies would be black and the rain belted down with such ferocity that it bruised her flesh.

Then it was hot – the sun was blazing and there would be no escaping the oppressive, burning heat.

She dreamt she dived underwater to gain relief but only felt scalded instead. The boiling water lay heavily on her lungs and she drowned and burned at the same time.

Every time she dreamt she thought the same thing – that it was Brendan who held her understand.

—

**FORWARD**

Calem keeps his hair short this time around, and the thought of it shocks her more than it should. He is still the same person – they always are, forever unchanging.

The first time a thousand years had passed she met Calem by accident. She cried and had thrown herself into his arms, and while he had patted her back in comfort, she knew he remembered nothing.

After that she tried to find the reawakened gods to set things right, but could not find her way back to Geosenge. After five cycles, she gave up.

“You’re new here?”

She smiles sadly.


	4. His voice turns wine into vinegar.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It irked him that even now the professor had sway over Augustine.

**PROWL**

Ugly stalked around the apartment, chasing flashes of light. After one too many unsuccessful pounces, she stalked off – much to Saturn’s amusement.

“Your cat’s an idiot,” he said scathingly.

“Saturn,” Mars said slowly, “your hair looks like a cat—”

Saturn pushed his hair around. “It does that on its own.”

“—and you own a toad. A cat – even a stupid one – is a much better pet.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is t—”

Jupiter burst out of her room.

“If you two don’t shut the hell up,” she yelled, “I’m throwing both animals out the window.”

—

**CUT**

Her scissors snipped through the stem, and her deft hands quickly picked up the flower and placed it in the basket next to her. It was a hot day already, worse in the academy greenhouse, but she still wouldn’t take off her kimono.

Erika tugged at her collar in a failed attempt to cool down. She felt drowsy.

“That’s not gonna help,” a voice teased gently from the doorway. “Why don’t you come and have a swim?”

Misty was already wearing her swimsuit – she always was – and beckoned her.

Erika smiled and held out her hand, “Help me up, please.”

—

**COMPROMISE**

“If you go to school today,” his father said slowly. “You can order whatever you want for dinner tonight.”

Barry frowned. “You’ve got me mixed up with Lucas, Dad!” he exclaimed. “ _I’m_ your son, not my best friend.”

Palmer sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry, sorry. What do you want then?”

“I want to come home,” Barry said slowly, mimicking his father, “and actually spend time with you—”

“You can’t,” Palmer interrupted. They had been through this before. “The Tower needs me at the moment. I’m sorry.”

“Fine,” Barry said simply. “I want lobster for dinner.”

—

**IMPULSE**

“What if someone needs it one day?” Dawn had said, when asked about the unused and undecorated third bed in their dorm room. Lyra agreed.

Over the year the two fifteen year olds had truly made the room theirs – sequins and frills and more pink than two teenage girls really needed. But they had never touched the third bed in the room.

But today was different.

“What is that?” Dawn asked hesitantly as Lyra carried in a giant stuffed fox toy.

“It’s for our new roomie, duh,” she replied and put it on the bed. “It just had a feeling!”

—

**HUSH**

Wally was five years old when it started talking to him. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to be hearing it. He had told his mother, and the next day she had sent him far away to live with his cousin.

Wanda was nice, and pretty, but didn’t understand either. She told him not to tell anyone else – to keep it their little secret. The idea of a secret at age five was more than enough to entice him into silence.

It liked the secret, too. The big, green snake still speaks to him.

—

**MORALS**

Anthea and Concordia had been born knowing that their purpose in life was to keep the little boy their father had named after nature itself in the dark, away from the madness their father carried.

They had failed.

After their little brother had gone missing at age fifteen, the sisters knew that they were to be held responsible for his actions.

Their father lowered the gun – the dark, heavy, horrible thing – into Concordia’s hand.

(it was so cruel to give it directly to her)

“Bring him back,” Ghetsis intoned emotionlessly, “And feel free to use force.”

This was their punishment.

—

**ENGAGE**

Rosa loved sixth period gym class. It was the end of the day, the sun was still shining but lacked the oppressive heat of noon, and they had their weekly swimming class scheduled. Hardly work in Rosa’s book, but she wouldn’t turn it down.

“Excited?” she asked her brother as they met up outside. She peered around him and spotted a surly looking Hugh.

Nate grinned and nodded, “You going to try and beat my time in freestyle again, sis?”

She pouted and poked her tongue out at him. “Make all the jokes you want – you’ve never beaten my backstroke.”

—

**VOICE**

Misty, the swimming instructor, bellowed loudly from the top of the pool as the first group of people lined up. Nate looked left to Hugh – who ignored him – and right to Rosa who smirked, lowering her goggles.

Nate looked ahead and noticed that the botany instructor lounging by the pool was wearing a lot less than she usually did. Erika waved just as Misty blew her whistle, leaving Nate a second behind everyone else.

At the end of the pool, Nate pushed himself out of the water and groaned.

“Don’t be a pervert,” Rosa laughed and pushed him back in.

—

**AWKWARD**

The siblings began scuffling as soon as Nate pushed himself out of the water.

Hugh sighed and pushed himself out of the water, but was surprised when Misty walked over to him beaming.

“Good work, you got first,” she exclaimed and held up a stopwatch, “And you shaved a second off your time, kid.”

Once Misty left to time the next set, Nate and Rosa were on him.

“How did you beat me?” Rosa demanded.

“Have you been secretly training?” Nate accused, “Man, that’s totally not cool.”

“Cheater!” Rosa exclaimed and they pushed Hugh into the water before following him.

—

**LOWER**

The academy was old, though in good condition. Nothing less for the esteemed Professor Rowan.

Lysandre was entirely aware of how infuriated Augustine was at Rowan’s offer – Sycamore teaching French was ludicrous. Aside from the overplayed accent and fondness of galettes, Sycamore hadn’t stepped foot in France since childhood.

Neither had Lysandre.

It irked him that even now the professor had sway over Augustine. Lysandre had offered Sycamore everything a scientist could every want for, and still he was turned down in favour of sentiment.

Lysandre had been down this road before – history had the nasty habit of repeating itself.

 


	5. When he arrives at the door,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy nods and pauses, 
> 
> “I remember everything.”

**PLEAD**

The portal closed behind her silently, but Dawn did not notice. She had done so that many times before that the desperate, earnest fear of passing into another dimension had worn off.

She no longer paid attention to the way the distortion clung to her limbs. She no longer cried as the emptiness pressed down on her.

Dawn had never taken this path before. She had explored much of the place, ambling in ways one could only dream of – today she walked with purpose.

A dark shadow passed overhead as she slipped through a portal and into a prison cell.

—

**CARING**

“Go away,” he murmured. He used to say things with purpose and with care.

“No, thank you,” Dawn said primly as she sat down next to him on the cot. She eyed the toilet with unveiled disgust as the portal closed behind her.

Cyrus hummed. “Trapping yourself with me, girl?”

“Hardly. Now stop being so obstinate, I’m here because I care.”

Cyrus barked a laugh, – he never used to _bark_ : he had chuckled mirthlessly on occasion but that felt like millennia ago – “You are here because you want answers. Do not lie, girl. It is unbecoming.”

Dawn visibly bristled. “Fine.”

—

**BELIEVE**

Archie adjusted his medal and stared down at it proudly for the countless time that day. His trusted lieutenant, Shelly, watched him and snorted unprofessionally.

“The fearless captain of the S.S. Tidal is admiring his own accomplishments yet again. I can barely believe my eyes,” she said sarcastically.

“I earned this fair and square,” he said petulantly, and began ignoring the shiny medal just to spite her.

“Sure you did. You totally saw the Magma drug ship coming and ordered the rocks to rise out of the sea to help you, right?” she sneered. “Congrats on controlling the elements, Cap.”

—

**FOUND**

“There you are!” Hilda exclaimed and ran up to her brother. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“This is a library,” he said slowly, looking at her with mock disgust. “Please be quiet, sister dear.”

She scoffed and dumped her book bag on the table he was studying on, knocking all his books off in the process.

“I have come up with,” she paused dramatically, “the best prank this school has ever seen.”

“Unlikely,” Hilbert said. “Blaine went to this school fifty years ago and no one has topped him since.”

Hilda looked him in the eye. “This one will.”

—

**SHIELD**

Two years ago, her sisters had kicked her out of the family home, and personality clashing aside, she couldn’t fault them for it.

“We love you, Mist,” Daisy had said gently, “But you graduated two years ago. You’ve only had one job since. We just – we don’t think you’ll ever get anywhere if you stay here.”

Misty had nodded, numb. Violet – or was it Lily? – scoffed somewhere behind her.

“Stop coddling her.”

Daisy rebuked their sister so quietly that Misty couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter anyway. She already knew where to go.

“It’s okay, Daisy,” Misty interrupted. “I understand.”

—

**OPEN**

Bianca’s mother made the best tarts, and her father’s big bear hugs made her feel safest but she would be lying if she said she was unhappy to go to a boarding school.

The only time she ever felt free as a child was when she was playing with Cheren in the big, open fields behind their houses.

When the daisies bloomed Bianca would spend all afternoon in the sun making crowns with them, placing them on Cheren’s head only because she thought he hated them.

(Bianca never saw his secret smiles, but guessed they were there all the same.)

—

**TACTILE**

Sabrina touched the crystal ball in front of her and hummed appreciatively. The glass was cool on her hands, and it was a relatively hot day. She appreciated the sensation.

“Can you see anything?” the woman in front of her asked desperately. “Can you see my boy?”

Sabrina hummed louder, attempting to drown the woman out – these gigs were getting ridiculous. She should have stuck with tarot card readings; at least she had fun with those.

She went to hum more, but started gasping for air instead. This was a real vision.

“I see red,” Sabrina whispered. “I see blood.”

—

**JOURNEY**

Iris remembered things occasionally, memories but _not_.

A vast field of grey, ash falling around her as a three headed creature high above the ground circled slowly.

An elderly man was bleeding out next to her, dying.

“I was a fool to try and kill the Brute,” he rasped. “I should have taken heed from you.”

Iris remembered shaking her head tearfully, but unable to look away from the sky.

It had needed to be done, though. The Brute had killed three people that week alone.

“Go west, Iris,” he said finally. “Dragonspiral must know of the last living dragon.”

—

**SCOWL**

“Smile more,” Jasmine said breathlessly. “You’re cuter when you smile.”

Volkner only frowned more. The woman on top of him giggled and ducked her head onto his chest, her breath tickling him.

“I don’t have a reason to smile,” he murmured.

Jasmine raised her head and an eyebrow. “No reason?” He nodded. “You’re a rock star in a band with your best friend, your first album has gone platinum twice over, and you own more cars than most own shoes,” she exclaimed and poked his chest, “ _and_ you have the cutest girl in the world in your bed _right now_.”

—

**HERO**

Serena doesn’t think she’s ever seen the boy before. She can feel that he is one of them as easy as breathing, but she thought she knew everyone who was stuck in the loop. She is even aware of rangers from Fiore and researchers from Orre. But this boy is new.

He approaches her with a humility she’s only seen in ancient men, and doesn’t quite smile but she thinks he’s close.

He has unnerving, startling red eyes, so she offers her hand. He doesn’t say anything.

“I’m Serena,” she says easily.

The boy nods and pauses,

“I remember everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> chapter titles from Tom Hirons' [Sometimes a Wild God](http://coyopa.wordpress.com/2012/07/19/sometimes-a-wild-god-2/).


End file.
